


Bad Day Good

by eledhwenlin



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-15
Updated: 2009-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has a bad day, which turns out good in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Day Good

“Come on, Fraser. I want to get out of these clothes now.”

Ray stared at his partner impatiently. Fraser was still apologizing profusely to the cops who’d given them a ride to Ray’s apartment. Ray’s shift had been over for more than an hour now, so even before this disaster, they were officially done for the day (which had been really sucktastic), and Ray wanted to take a shower. Desperately.

Fraser and Ray had been chasing bad guys, and in usual Fraser-style they had landed in a dumpster of some kind. Ray didn’t want to think about what this goo that they were covered in actually was, but it stank. Really, really bad. Worse than Dewey on a hot summer day. It made him glad that the wolf hadn’t been with them. Dief had decided to stay with Turnbull that night and eat duck instead of being a mean crime-fighting machine. After the day Ray’d just had, he thought the wolf had the better idea.

Despite being sticky as hell, the gunk had dripped down his back into areas where it had no right being. That alone made Ray grumpy.

Their clothes were ruined, because he doubted that even the best dry-cleaner in town could get this stuff out of the fabric. He felt a bit bad for the serge. The wool had absorbed much of the goo and had turned a strange color. The Uniform shouldn’t ever be this dirty. Ray always thought of Fraser’s serge as that, The Uniform with a capital U, as if there wasn’t another uniform in the world that counted (and that was even kind of true).

Fraser stank even worse than Ray and that was some kind of malfunction of the universe. Fraser never stank and Fraser never got dirty. It was like a law of nature.

But now they both were dirty, and they stank, and no way would they be driving home in the Goat.

They had been standing at the scene, while some beat cops took care of the perp and all the itty-bitty details of fighting crime, trying to come to a decision. Fraser had wanted to walk home, which Ray flat-out refused. Walking in this outfit for 60-odd blocks was not going to happen. It still irked him how Fraser had made it sound so easy, as if 60 blocks wasn’t a really long way to go home--although, seen from Fraser’s point of view, it really wasn’t. But Ray wasn’t Canadian. He was American. He was an American with a driver’s license. He hadn’t walked anywhere since he’d gotten his first car and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna start now.

They had to rule out cabs, too, since no cabbie in his right mind would let them near his car. Unfortunately for Patrolman Jeremy Bradley from the 1-1, though, cops had to help stranded fellow cops, and Bradley happened to be passing by the scene, headed in the general direction of Ray’s apartment.

Ray knew Bradley from his rookie days, and it looked like the poor guy was still riding with rookies. Ray smirked as he saw the young face sitting in the car with Bradley. The boy was probably still getting his lunch packed by his mommy. Were the brass now introducing a new program called Babies with Guns?

Didn’t matter, though, because Bradley and the baby rookie had a CAR. So Ray had just shot the breeze with Bradley for a bit and then mentioned how he really needed a lift. Fraser had actually argued with him about that, about how it was “beyond impolite and unnecessary to impose such an inconvenience on his colleagues just to save the upholstery in his car.”

Fortunately, the minute Ray said that his car was a 1967 Pontiac GTO, Bradley had understood. He’d laughed and motioned Ray toward his squad car. Now this was a man who could appreciate the beauty of classic cars.

Squad cars were never really clean, anyway, because of all the scum who rode in them, even when drunks didn’t throw up in the car. That didn’t keep Fraser from being all sorry for having gotten Bradley’s squad car dirtier. Ray couldn’t care less, as long as the Goat stayed safe and clean in his designated spot in the 2-7’s parking lot.

“Frase, come now. Before I die of waiting.”

Fraser nodded at him and smiled one last time at Bradley and his partner. “Again, I want to thank you kindly for offering your assistance, and I hope that your car will be none for the worse for it.”

Bradley just waved him away. “It’s okay, Constable. Now get to Kowalski before he blows a gasket.”

Of course that got a rise out of Frase, who simply had to explain the whole Vecchio scheme without actually doing any explaining--after all, the guy was still undercover and in danger and all that shit. Not that Ray cared right now. He could do without that, when he stood stinking on the sidewalk in front of his fucking apartment building.

Finally Fraser got a move on. Of course, he had to wave goodbye to their chauffeurs, but at least he was already standing next to Ray. Once Bradley had pulled away from the curb, Ray dragged Fraser inside the apartment building without giving him a chance to delay further. Ray wanted out of those clothes and into his shower as soon as possible. He’d probably have to stay in there for a week to get all the goo washed off.

“Ray, we really should take care not mess up the floor. Indeed, there surely must be a mop nearby that we can use to clean up after us.”

Ray ignored Fraser and went up the stairs. At his apartment door he looked over his shoulder and saw that Fraser had followed him--without a mop. Apparently even Mounties could get fed up with stinking and being dirty. After they got inside, he stopped Fraser before he could go more than three feet into his apartment.

“Wait a sec. We’re not going to get this shit all over my floors.” After all, he had to clean those himself.

Fraser gave him a sidelong glance, but Ray shrugged. Too bad if the Mountie was annoyed by Ray’s double standards. He stank too much to care.

“All right.” Getting your partner’s apartment or igloo all dirty must be a big no-no in the Mountie handbook. “How do you suggest we proceed?”

Ray opened the closet in his entry hall and pulled out the first thing he could grab. It was an old beach towel he’d been meaning to throw away, but he’d never gotten around to it. It would do, though. He spread it over the wood floor.

“Strip.”

Without waiting for any comments from Fraser, Ray started to lose his clothes. With each piece of clothing that hit the towel with a soggy thump, his mood grew worse.

Damn, that was his best jacket. And he really loved those jeans, worn and comfy. He would have to scrub his boots for hours just to get rid of the smell.

He was down to his boxer-briefs before he noticed that Fraser was still standing there fully dressed--and blushing a deep, deep red. Ray sighed.

“Come on, Fraser, you ain’t got anything I haven’t seen before. I promise I won’t take advantage of you, if that’s what you’re worried about. But lose those clothes and quick. You’re dripping yuck all over the place.”

Fraser mumbled something under his breath, but Ray ignored him. At least the guy was moving now. Ray tried to keep from staring outright as Fraser undressed, but it was kind of hard to do with that view just under his nose.

He’d known Fraser was attractive before he’d taken the job--he’d seen the guy’s picture, of course. Then he’d heard the dumb jokes about moving out of the way of the stampede of women every time Fraser entered a room. Then Huey had told him to bury all hopes of getting a date with Fraser standing next to him. So yeah, he’d kinda clued in that Fraser was above-average good-looking. He just hadn’t realized how drop-dead handsome Fraser would be in person.

Since then, Ray had fought a real war to keep his hormones in check. Thing was, he really would like to jump Fraser’s bones--he just wasn’t that sure about the reaction he’d get if he suggested it. It could cost him the very best partnership he’d ever had. That was a thing you thought twice about as a cop.

So while Fraser stripped, Ray kept his eyes to himself (well, mostly), tried not to leer and drool openly, and forced himself to think unsexy thoughts.

He wasn’t very successful. Once Fraser was down to his undershirt and boxers, Ray realized he’d been standing there for at least a full minute without doing anything.

Now Fraser was looking at him with raised eyebrows, and Ray knew that he had to say something. So he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You wanna go first? ‘Cause I can wait until you’re done and I really don’t care, so if you wanna go first, you know where everything is and I’ll just wait here and order something. Haven’t seen Sandor in three days; he’s probably already missing me.”

“Ray!”

He shut up and cursed his mind for delivering him words, but making him sound like a teenager. It was plainly written on Fraser’s face that this wasn’t the first time he’d said Ray’s name in the last 15 seconds, and Ray didn’t want to know exactly what his partner was thinking right now. Fraser’s look of concern made him really uncomfortable.

“Ray, it won’t be a bother to wait for my turn to shower--I assume that’s what you were babbling on about. I’m just afraid that I’ll have to ask you for some clothes, as this uniform is probably beyond saving. I am sorry that our pursuit of the miscreant led us to that particular dumpster.”

Ray sighed and rubbed his eyes. Yeah, and that dumpster had just been the highlight of his day. First, he’d woken up late and then there had been a traffic jam, making him even later. The second he had entered the bullpen, Welsh had bellowed his name and chewed him out for being half an hour late. His morning had consisted of further pleasant and amusing things--like Frannie seriously PMSing all over the place, so there was no good coffee. He’d settled for station coffee, but he didn’t have any M&Ms because the vending machine was broken, so that coffee tasted even worse. No chocolate in his coffee also meant no sugar rush, so he’d been even grumpier all morning.

Then all his leads had turned into dead ends--no known whereabouts of his perps, no known associates, no one knew anything. Additionally, the DA’s office called to remind him about his court date next week, and would he please reread the casefile so he wouldn’t embarrass the Chicago PD? Thank you a lot. He’d gritted his teeth, but it was Stella’s case and he wanted to be on her good side, although he was slowly starting to forget why that was so important.

And The Stella had condescended to grace him with a visit, which mainly consisted of him being nice and her showing Ray a cold shoulder that was practically a glacier. Then there had been Dewey with even dumber jokes than his usual ones, and the couple of street artists Donaldson had arrested for doing something unmentionable to city parks (they insisted it was called “shadow fencing,” whatever that meant). So when Fraser had finally come to the station half an hour before his shift was supposed to end, Ray had grabbed him and gotten the hell out of there, ’cause by that time the day had already gone on too long.

He should’ve known that the day would end in a dumpster.

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay, though. I know how you are. Next time warn me, though.”

Fraser actually smiled that cute little smile (the one that was for real and for Ray only--or at least that’s what Ray sometimes kidded himself into thinking). “Certainly, Ray. The next time we have to jump into a biohazard container, I’ll warn you ahead of time.”

Ray nodded. “Sure, you will.”

Then his jaw dropped. “BIOHAZARD?!”

Fraser had the nerve to just stand there and nod. “Yes, the container belongs to the Northwestern Memorial Hospital, and it generally contains all the medical waste that they--”

Ray grabbed Fraser and dragged him toward his bathroom. “We are covered in MEDICAL WASTE and you didn’t bother telling me THAT?!”

Fraser made a tsk-sound. “Ray, it wasn’t such an important point at the time, and I didn’t think it crucial to mention the fact after we successfully arrested the robber.”

“Fraser, we’re covered in…blood and guts and…dead…stuff, and that’s not crucial?”

“But, Ray, that’s not entirely correct. We’re only wet because the dumpster had apparently been left open in yesterday’s rain. This particular dumpster was only used for the disposal of surgical clothing, which tends to be a lot cleaner than you’d expect, considering the fact that a human body contains 10 pints of blood. It is quite amazing that only a small percentage of it escapes during surgery--”

It was enough. Ray couldn’t take any more of that. He just pushed Fraser into his bathtub, climbed in behind him, and turned on the shower, not caring whether it was so cold that they would freeze to death first. When he heard water hit the tiles behind him, he angrily jerked the shower curtain around them. He should’ve known better than to assume that the dumpster had been the end of it. No, Ray’s day had to get even better! Medical waste! And Fraser was still acting like there wasn’t anything to be upset about!

“Ray, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting us clean, that’s what I’m doing.”

The water pouring down on them was really freaking cold and Ray had goosebumps all over his body. His wet shorts clung to his skin. The whole situation was just plain weird. Five minutes ago, he’d been thinking about jumping his partner. Now he was in the shower with him, and all Ray could think about was getting biohazard waste off his skin. And perhaps killing Fraser for leaving that little fact out.

Somewhere, some supernatural being was laughing his ass off. Ray hoped that the universe at least got a kick out of the shit it dealt him. He really hoped it was worth it for someone, ’cause Ray sure as hell didn’t think it was funny. He pushed his shorts off and threw them across the room onto a dry section of floor. At least that’s where he hoped they landed. He’d get rubber gloves and get them into a big garbage bag later.

Now he was really, really, REALLY glad that they hadn’t taken the Goat. He probably would have to clean and sterilize his entire apartment before he felt safe again.

“Ray...”

“Not now, Fraser.”

He reached past Fraser and grabbed the soap, but Fraser’s hand took hold of his wrist and pulled him around, so Ray was standing face to face with him.

He looked earnestly at Ray. “I’m very sorry. I wasn’t aware that this incident would upset you quite so much.”

And that was it--the proverbial last straw. Ray started laughing and he found that once he started, he just couldn’t stop. He was naked and laughing hysterically in his own shower with a wet and half-dressed Fraser in it. Somehow his fantasy hadn’t ever gone like this before.

But then he was wrapped in Fraser’s warm arms and pulled against his broad chest, and that helped. Fraser patted his wet and not-spiky hair and murmured a stream of nonsensical words into his ear. “Shh, it’s okay. There surely wasn’t any toxic or remotely dangerous garbage in that container. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been open. Everything’s fine, Ray.”

Slowly Ray calmed down and relaxed in those arms.

“I’m very sorry.” Fraser’s voice was quiet and so sincere that it almost killed Ray. He wanted to take back his outburst so Fraser wouldn’t feel guilty. So he shook his head.

“Nah, wasn’t just that. It’s been a crappy day.”

“Ah.”

For once Ray didn’t argue about what exactly “Ah” meant, and he relaxed some more. Until he suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that he was all but wrapped up in Fraser. Ray’s dick found this situation pretty fine--wasn’t it how so many of Ray’s fantasies went?

So Ray went ahead and behaved like those dogs of that guy, the one with the bell and the drool. He’d heard about it in school, had listened to Stella ramble beautifully about how interesting psychology was, but he’d be damned if he could ever remember the guy’s name. Not that it was important, because he was standing here hugging Fraser (and being hugged in return, which didn’t happen that often), and getting hard because he had jerked off way too many times fantasizing about Fraser.

Only this wasn’t a fantasy and nothing was going to happen here. But Ray’s dick decided that it didn’t care--the water had finally heated up enough to be comfortable and there was a warm body next to his. That was just what he wanted, wasn’t it? Mentally, Ray was shaking his head. No, this wasn’t AT ALL what he wanted. What he wanted was Fraser wanting him in return. What he wanted was Fraser being his friend and his partner and something much more as well. What he wanted was like what he’d had with Stella before it all went bad and ugly and she said “I want a divorce.”

But it wasn’t going to happen. ‘Cause this wasn’t just his partner, someone he had to rely on every second on the job, someone he needed to have on his good side, no matter what; no, this was Fraser. You wouldn’t find a guy who was more straight and less bent if you searched the whole of Canada. As much as Ray wanted to just give it up and kiss the guy, he couldn’t. It wouldn’t just be kisses--he wanted more, more than Fraser could give. He wanted happily ever after, love till death do us part, and everything else. And he just couldn’t have it--couldn’t do this to Fraser. Stella had hurt enough.

That thought got rid of the worst of his erection. Just as Ray tried to find a way to disentangle himself from Fraser without making it obvious why he was doing it, Fraser cleared his throat and loosened his arms a bit, his hands moving from Ray’s back to his biceps, gently patting him.

“Ray. I think we should make use of the hot water and clean up as best we can.”

“Sure.” Now he had to hide his half-hard dick from Fraser. Quickly, Ray turned and grabbed the first thing his fingers met--his shampoo as it turned out. He squeezed a dollop onto his palm and started to wash his hair with his back to Fraser.

He heard two wet thumps across the room--Fraser’s undershirt and boxers hitting the floor. Ray closed his eyes and tried very hard not to think about the fact that Fraser was with him in his shower and that they were both naked. This wasn’t going anywhere. Really.

Ray felt movement past his head and opened his eyes just in time to see Fraser putting the bottle of shampoo back on the ledge. Stupidly, Ray stared at the bottle. Fraser was using his shampoo. He forgot that he still had his own hair shampooed up until the suds dripped into his eyes.

“Shit!”

Ray turned his face to the spray instantly and let the soap wash away the sting. Damn, that hurt. When he could see clearly again, he found Fraser staring at him, faintly amused.

“What, you never get shampoo in your eyes?”

“No, I don’t.” Fraser even had the cheek to grin. Ray snorted at him and turned to get the soap. Which put him between the spray and Fraser, whose hair was still full of shampoo.

Fraser didn’t wait for Ray to get out from under the water; he just pulled Ray back a bit and then moved to stand right in front of Ray, facing him, so that the water could rinse his hair, too. Now they were so close that Ray could almost taste Fraser’s skin. He swallowed, his throat dry. If he hadn’t been so sure that it would never occur to Fraser to tease him, he would have sworn that’s what Fraser was doing.

Unfortunately, Ray’s tub was rather old and kind of small, which mean that he couldn’t get away, as Fraser was blocking any access to the other end of the tub. If he asked Fraser to let him pass, Fraser would want to know why, and that was a question Ray’d rather not answer. So he turned away as much as he could and started to soap himself up.

The shampoo incident had rid him of his erection, but now it was returning with a vengeance, what with the hot water and the close contact, and had he mentioned that Fraser’s hair now smelled like Ray’s, because he’d used Ray’s shampoo? Ray bit his tongue and willed his dick not to get excited. Just his luck that his dick didn’t want to listen. It had been a long time since Ray had been with anyone, and his dick definitely wouldn’t mind a hand that wasn’t his own. Or a mouth, for that matter. Actually, an ass sounded pretty fine, too.

Ray gritted his teeth, but this time he couldn’t conjure any images of old Mrs. Krescek in her underwear. All he could think about was Fraser--Fraser in his uniform, Fraser in those damn tight jeans and flannel, Fraser naked, Fraser sweating and panting beneath him...

“Do you want me to lend you a hand?”

Definitely, Fraser, Ray thought. Then...“Huh?”

He turned halfway around and blinked at Fraser. Fraser smiled at Ray and pointed at Ray’s back. “I noticed you weren’t washing your back and I wondered if you might like help with it.”

So many thoughts raced through Ray’s head--yes, no, please, stay the hell away from me--that he didn’t realize that he was holding out the soap to Fraser until Fraser took it confidently and started to make suds.

When Fraser first touched his back, all thoughts fled from Ray’s mind. He bit his lip to keep from moaning--and how pathetic was that? He was so contact-deprived that he almost got off from his partner washing his back. True, there was something to be said for a Mountie as your personal bathboy, but Ray wasn’t 16 anymore. He had experience. He had stamina. He wouldn’t shoot off just because someone was touching his back.

But the hand on his back was hypnotizing--moving in small circles, pushing at sore muscles, loosening them up. This could be heaven. Actually, Ray was sure that heaven was a lot like this. Then Fraser’s hand dipped dangerously low and Ray stood like he was petrified.

“Frase?” His voice was a mere squeak, but Fraser didn’t seem to notice.

“There is a rather persistent spot here.”

Ray breathed deeply as Fraser gingerly rubbed his skin. Then a finger slipped (by accident?) between his cheeks, and a low moan escaped Ray.

The hand on his back stilled and Ray could feel himself blushing. Damn, he hadn’t been this embarrassed in a really long time. But Fraser didn’t say anything. He just turned Ray into the spray of water and gently rinsed Ray’s back. Now that it was all done, Ray found himself reluctant to get out of the tub and leave Fraser alone. That was when he realized that he’d still been hoping (completely against his good sense) that something was going to happen. He hesitated for another moment, but then he told himself to get a grip and get out of the shower. All danger averted. He started to move.

Fraser stopped him with a single word. “Don’t.”

When Ray turned to him, Fraser looked as surprised as Ray felt. “Don’t what, Fraser?”

Fraser swallowed heavily and then looked at the floor, but just as quickly, his head lifted again and he blushed painfully. Looking down, Ray realized that he was still half-hard--and he was standing only a couple of inches away from Fraser. If he leaned a little bit forward, Fraser and Ray would be touching from their shoulders to their knees. Ray was hit lightning-fast with the desire to just do it, to move those couple of inches and be skin to skin with Fraser, the only person he was almost as obsessive about as he’d been about Stella, just with less stalking. Fraser who’d been there and experienced all of Ray’s bad sides firsthand. Fraser who was just now looking at Ray like he hadn’t ever looked at Ray before.

Then Ray got a gut feeling and he was a gut man, right? He always went with his instincts, as they very rarely led him astray. So he took that step--fuck that, he almost leapt forward until he was touching Fraser. Fraser’s eager hands pulled him even closer, pressing his back until he felt like a present wrapped up in Fraser-paper, and Fraser’s lips found his, and then Ray was literally drowning in Fraser. Fraser smelled just like Ray, having used his shampoo and his soap, and he made little moans in the back of his throat, as if he just couldn’t get close enough to Ray, and that? That was awesome, great, greatness.

Ray had never felt like this before, like somebody needed him in order to live. Stella had been independent--Ray had needed Stella in order to feel like he was someone. And now Fraser was making all those little noises in the back of this throat like Ray still wasn’t close enough and he was pushing and holding Ray in place and all of that made Ray feel like he was flying. He was on a high, drugged with Fraser, drugged with the knowledge that Fraser needed him like that. Fraser, Mountie extraordinaire, tracker, licker of all things deemed unlickable by society, and freak to freak out all freaks, needed him. Needed the former Stanley Kowalski. Needed Ray, who had to have his geek glasses to shoot properly; Ray, who was needy and obsessive and more than just a little bit in love with Fraser.

Fraser needed him, and that thought alone could get Ray off.

Ray opened his lips slightly and there was Fraser’s tongue demanding entry. Ray didn’t hold back, either. He pushed his tongue into Fraser’s mouth to explore everything he could reach--Fraser’s tongue, his teeth, his palate, everything. He wanted to literally devour Fraser, wanted to crawl inside him, and he wanted to never stop kissing Fraser. They kissed until the water ran cold again and they were both covered in goosebumps.

Reluctantly, Ray pulled back a little and turned the water off. While he tried to regain his breath, he felt Fraser panting on him, the little cold gusts of air hitting Ray’s collarbone and neck. It hit him like lightning that he had done this to Fraser, that Fraser was breathing hard because of Ray kissing him, and he smiled. While they slowly calmed down, Ray gently patted Fraser’s back, moving his hands all across that skin, which was hot to his touch despite the cold water still running down their bodies.

When their breathing had returned to normal, they looked at each other for the first time since they’d started kissing. The raw emotion he saw in Fraser’s eyes made Ray’s knees weak. He tried to speak, but his voice only worked after he cleared his throat a couple of times and even then it was embarrassingly hoarse.

“Let’s go someplace dry, huh?”

 

Fraser nodded keenly and pushed him back, out of the shower. They grabbed some towels and started rubbing each other dry, interfering with each other’s movements, until Fraser seized the towel Ray was holding and tossed it past Ray into the hamper.

Ray opened his mouth to argue, but Fraser just wrapped the other towel around him and pummeled him dry in no time. He tucked the towel around Ray’s hips as if he did this every day and ushered him out of the bathroom.

As they were both standing in Ray’s bedroom, Ray suddenly became aware that they were, well, standing in his bedroom. It was messy, with dirty and clean clothes strewn haphazardly around, his bed was unmade, and there was his bed. And Fraser was standing just a few feet away, looking at it as if it was a polar bear and he had to wrestle it down and carry it across the frozen tundra.

Cautiously, Ray touched Fraser’s arm, letting his hand rest just above Fraser’s elbow. “Fraser, you okay in there?”

That earned him a quick glance and a smile. “Yes, I am. I am just a bit...overwhelmed.”

Yeah, Ray could second that. “You know, we don’t have to do anything...”

Fraser surprised him by shaking his head violently. “No. I... I want to...but...”

Ray decided that there had been enough talking--he wanted this, Fraser wanted this, now it was time for some action to happen. He pulled Fraser closer, moving him in the general direction of the bed. Fraser got with the program at once.

Then that delicious mouth was on his again. They fell as much as sat on the bed, Ray pulling and Fraser pushing. There was so much skin to explore and there were so many sensitive spots to discover. Ray let his hands stray wildly, feeling like he had to touch and kiss and lick all that pale skin all at once. He nipped at Fraser’s neck, enjoying the groans he earned for his trouble. One of his hands found its way to Fraser’s neck, then to his hair. He grabbed a fistful of soft dark hair and held him still. Ray’s other hand stroked Fraser’s biceps.

Fraser’s hands weren’t idle, either--it felt as if Fraser had grown ten more arms, as if he was touching Ray everywhere simultaneously. Ray was loving it.

When Fraser became too heavy for Ray, they turned onto their sides and interlocked their legs, pulling each other even closer. Then Fraser reached between them and jiggled just a little bit, and just like that, their cocks were aligned and rubbing together.

Ray gasped. Fraser’s cock was hot against his skin and it was leaving a wet trail where it was leaking. Every push and shove seemed to shake Ray’s core. It was rough and it was fast. It was perfect.

They rocked against each other. At first, Fraser just held onto Ray’s hips, but then he wrapped one hand around both their cocks and started to jerk them both at the same time. Then it became a little bit too rough--there wasn’t enough fluid to make them slide easily against each other, and the pressure from Fraser’s hand was too much. Ray whimpered, and instantly Fraser stopped, concern and lust openly warring on his face.

“Ray?”

“Mmm, just a sec.”

Fraser looked at him curiously, but Ray gave him a peck on the tip of his nose and turned toward the nightstand. He fumbled around in the drawer for a minute before he found what he had been looking for. Pulling out the tube of lubricant, he brandished it like a wand. “Found it!”

With the lube, their cocks were weirdly slick, but it was easier to rub against each other. Ray moaned and thrust several times against Fraser, so close to losing it, but still wanting to make the moment last. Fraser chuckled against Ray’s neck, and the vibrations traveled through Ray’s entire body. He continued to make those needy noises, which made him seem so damn weak, but Ray was beyond caring. Fraser had taken both their cocks into his hand again and he was doing this little flick with his thumb over the head of Ray’s cock on every upstroke, and he was licking Ray’s neck and breathing down on Ray, and his other hand was kneading Ray’s buttocks, pulling him closer against Fraser. It was good, way too good, and much too soon Ray felt the oncoming orgasm tingle up his spine.

He made a small noise of protest, wanting to tell Fraser to delay, to make it last a little while longer, but Fraser just lapped the sound off his lips and gave him another lip-bruising, heart-stopping kiss while increasing the tempo of his hand. Ray couldn’t do anything but hold on to Fraser and hope the approaching orgasm wouldn’t blow him away. Part of him wondered whether he’d leave bruises on Fraser’s skin, but he couldn’t get himself to care. He thought of dark finger-shaped bruises on Fraser’s arms and hips, of hickeys on his neck where Ray had sucked and bitten the skin lightly, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave marks. He thought of himself marking Fraser like that and he was gone, gone, gone.

Everything exploded into white. He was pretty sure that he shouted, but then Fraser was coming, too, and Ray was just riding the wave and enjoying the ride. It was so damn good, and it was over way too soon. Afterwards they lay on the bed, panting, slowly catching their breaths.

Ray wiggled a bit and pulled the cover over them, not minding the wet spots. He felt way too good to care that there was come all over his sheets. His hand knocked against something and he dug it out from under the covers--the lube. He chuckled.

“What?” Fraser’s voice had the sound of the well and truly fucked. Apparently orgasms drove all the politeness out of him.

“This worked great, even though we didn’t use the lube for the purpose I bought it for.”

He’d bought it on a whim--he’d been in the drugstore looking for cold medicine and had come across the lube. When he got home, he’d put it away at once and almost instantly forgotten that he owned any lube. He had cursed himself for being so stupid and thinking something might actually come of his crush on Fraser. Guess he’d been wrong.

It was Fraser’s turn to chuckle now, and his lips touched Ray’s ear.

“Who says we won’t?”

The thought alone made Ray shiver with anticipation. Still, there was another thing he needed to ask, before he fell asleep and before Fraser took the chance to run away.

“Fraser...why?”

Fraser was silent for a long moment and Ray turned his face up to look at him properly. Fraser looked at him with those blue, serious eyes; he was clearly thinking. Ray hoped to God that Fraser wasn’t freaking out on him. Not now.

“I...I don’t know.”

Ray blinked. That wasn’t what he’d expected.

“Um... you ARE Benton Fraser, right? No evil twin?”

That earned him a wide-eyed stare. “Yes, I am Benton Fraser. I don’t have any evil twins I’m aware of.”

“Well, you’re Mr. Logic, right? The, uh, the guy with the plan?”

Fraser nodded carefully. “Yes, but I still don’t see where--”

“You always know where you go and why you go there. So I kinda figured that you had a plan when you jumped my bones.”

Fraser blushed, and Ray couldn’t help himself--he just had to see how far that blush went. Oh. All the way down. He filed away that information for later use.

Fraser was staring at him with a weird expression in his eyes--as if he really didn’t know what had led him to have sex with Ray. Ray wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Well, I...” Fraser shook his head and sighed mournfully. “I can’t make it sound all right.”

“Then say it like it is and worry about ‘all right’ later.”

Fraser nodded and pulled Ray close against his chest. His arms were warm around Ray, and Ray felt strangely safe there.

“Ray, I...I’ve been attracted to you since we first met. Ever since you walked up to me and hugged me, a total stranger. I didn’t know who you were, but I knew that I liked you even then. And I wanted you to like me, too.”

Ray’s heart stopped, and he pushed his face against Fraser’s chest.

“I was afraid I had crossed some invisible line today,” Fraser went on. “I thought I had lost you, that you wouldn’t want to continue being my partner. That I had led you into one disposal container too many on a wild chase after a purse-snatcher. And I didn’t want to lose you. I--”

Ray stopped Fraser and kissed him.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against Fraser’s lips. “I’m not going to leave. Not like he did.” He felt Fraser nodding and smiled. “Go to sleep. Talk tomorrow.”

Obediently, Fraser laid his head down on Ray’s pillow, still holding him close.

Ray burrowed into the warmth surrounding him and relaxed. Maybe Fraser was going to freak out on him tomorrow. Maybe Ray’d made his worst mistake in a long line of really bad mistakes, and this would destroy his relationship with Fraser for good.

But he still had this one night. And he could only say this: it had been worth it, whatever the consequences turned out to be. It had really been worth it.


End file.
